


If There Were Water

by Lothiriel84



Category: MarsCorp (Podcast)
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Literature, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Drip drop drip drop drop drop dropBut there is no water





	If There Were Water

He could still remember the first time he had read it, sitting on the floor in one of the remotest corners of the Culture Department – the familiar smell of centuries’ worth of slowly accumulating dust in his nostrils, the crinkling of worn-out paper as he turned the pages the only sound he could hear.

_Here is no water but only rock  
_ _Rock and no water and the sandy road_

All he ever pictured in his mind were the deserted plains of Mars, red sand and rock as far as the human eye could see. He had started reciting that bit of the poem over and over again every time his parents dragged him on another journey to the mine, the long drive only making it more difficult for him to ignore the voices screaming so loudly in his head.

_If there were water we should stop and drink  
_ _Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think_

For his fifteenth birthday the Head of Culture had given him a reproduction of an ancient MarsCorp promotional leaflet that was thought to date back to the time of the Founders. It promised a completely terraformed planet in the span of a mere few decades, with a self-sustaining ecosystem producing all the oxygen and water they would need. Plants, trees, rain falling from the sky – he thought about it sometimes, as he lay awake in his bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

_If there were the sound of water only_  
_Not the cicada  
_ _And dry grass singing_

Whenever his insomnia hit him harder than usual, he used to dig out the decrepit portable media player that he had somehow managed to keep hidden from his parents, selected the sound of falling rain, and let it lull him into some semblance of sleep.


End file.
